


Truth is Now Acceptable

by Perilous_Grey



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Crack, First Kiss, M/M, Plane rides, Pre-Slash, Will being completely unsympathetic to Hannibal's plight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perilous_Grey/pseuds/Perilous_Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hannibal has the detestable experience of flying on a commercial airline sans legroom and Will finally settles the score.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth is Now Acceptable

**Author's Note:**

> Non-stop red eye flights provide both inspiration and time for writing, who knew?
> 
> Title is from My Chemical Romance's Planetary (GO!), as I was listening to the Danger Days album on repeat.

Hannibal could not abide by this sheer lack of _dignity_. It was a wonder how people regularly traversed the sky in such a distasteful manner. Had they no regard for personal space? 

“Welcome to Economy class,” Will smirked, the refined doctor silently broadcasting waves of irritation and disgust like a beacon. 

Hannibal felt an unwelcome elbow dig into his ribs courtesy of the fidgety aisle passenger to his right and had to exert more control than he would admit at suppressing a grimace. How the profiler had gotten the window seat was beyond Hannibal; they had been booked in separate aisle seats but an earlier canceled flight led to their suddenly overbooked one along with a game of reshuffling that left them in their current arrangement: cramped together in a back row.

“ _Sorry boys_ ,” Crawford had apologized without a hint of sympathy, “ _We need you back in Baltimore as soon as possible and this is the quickest way. Call me when you land_.”

The man was rapidly ascending his list of possible meal plans, regardless of their cultivated friendship.

Will smirking at him was not helping his fraying patience either.

By comparison, Will was positively _delighted_ at the sight of the normally icily composed psychiatrist so far out of his comfort zone. It was a petty but well deserved satisfaction. After all of their sessions - _conversations_ \- in pushing his boundaries to and sometimes past their limits Will thought this was justified.

Sure, a part of him felt guilty for making Hannibal impersonate an awkwardly carved stone statue by refusing to trade seats, though that part was miniscule and easily ignored.

If anything, he was more concerned for the restlessly sleeping aisle passenger Hannibal was currently appraising with dark promise.

“The man can’t be held accountable for how he moves in an unconscious state, Hannibal,” Will half heartedly placated.

He’d rather not deal with a crime scene thirty thousand feet in the air. The paperwork alone would be a nightmare with the added bonus of the perpetrator (or more likely _suspected_ perpetrator since Will was confident Hannibal could take care of himself) being an FBI consultant, Jack would have an aneurism either way and Will would develop a permanent migraine from the the resulting hellish work schedule and perpetually hostile atmosphere. Even if such a situation would get him out of therapy, Will had to admit (if only to himself) that he would miss the good doctor and their slowly developing relationship; the stimulating debates, lavish dinners, judgement free gaze that anchored Will in an unforgiving world which would rather see him institutionalized for his gift ( _his curse_ ) than give him a chance, how the study’s firelight framed Hannibal’s face just so and warmed his eyes to a blood wine...

Of course, that was only if he wasn’t charged as an accessory to Hannibal’s crime, either for failing to do his civic duty or assisting him.

Because hell if he was going to let Hannibal go to prison if it was within his power to prevent it.

"We should be landing relatively soon." Possibly.

Hannibal’s predatory gaze focused on the younger agent.

“Would you like to trade seats, Will?” he asked silkily.

A shiver raced down Will’s spine at the thinly hidden malice. Hannibal must have been closer to the end of his lengthy tether than he originally thought. 

Will placed a calming hand on an expensively clothed thigh feeling the muscles beneath tense further at the unwanted contact, took a moment to question his admittedly unstable sanity, and leaned forward.

The gentle press of lips against Hannibal’s own was wholly unexpected but by no means unpleasant. Gradually the tightly wound spring of irritation in his middle began to uncoil, posture softening to a relaxed state that to anyone else would still read as rigid but was as relaxed as he could ever be in the public eye.

Hannibal’s stare was a burning weight even through closed eyelids, Will could feel, smoldering in intensity when he quickly swiped the seam of the other’s lips. He didn’t need his sight to know Hannibal’s keen eyes were tracking his every movement. 

Will wasn’t wrong. 

Shifting back to give each other a fractional amount of personal space, Will took a quick breath, digging deep for the courage to open his eyes and came face to face with the doctor’s ruddy gaze simmering with curiosity, slight surprise, and a hidden hunger that made Will very aware how little room there was between his window and Hannibal’s unfortunate middle seat.

Head still tilted towards the other man, Hannibal spoke. “Tell me, was there something you wanted to mention dear Will? Or was that your idea of alleviating an uncomfortable situation?”

“Actually I wanted you to quit complaining bodily about the discomforts of modern travel almost every other person suffers and stop you from committing homicide by proxy.”

Hannibal frowned. Will would apologize but Hannibal knew sarcasm was his automatic defense mechanism when under duress, not that the shared understanding did anything to abate the sharp squeeze Will’s chest gave at the shutters falling closed behind Hannibal’s eyes.

Will couldn’t hold the other’s chilled gaze as he added, “I also may have been wanting to do that for some time,” while picking at a loose cuff thread.

Not even the abrupt intrusion of a reclining chair upon his personal space could detract from Hannibal’s bout of internal pleasure.

“It appears we have much to discuss during our next appointment.”

Will made a fascinating impersonation of a hunted animal as he made shocked eye contact long enough to catch Hannibal’s tiny, too sharp genuine smile before skittering away to watch the beginning of their descent, shoulders slumping.

However favorable an outcome this situation had ended up producing did not mean he wanted to actually _have_ a conversation of any such nature. Alas, there was no escaping this design of his own making.

“I suppose we do,” he conceded in a murmur, Hannibal catching the slightest hint of a smile in the window’s reflection.


End file.
